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by diadem-de-amor
Summary: Is it possible to miss what you never had? Crack. Very slight HanaxSai. Oneshot.


In Sai's mind, Hana Inuzuka was art waiting to be splashed on a canvas. All sleek lines and animalistic grace; his fingers itched for a paintbrush.

The two had been paired on a rather quick and simple assassination mission, with Hana tracking the target and Sai taking him out. They had found him as evening fell, and the had orders to bring the body back at first light, in order for a code breaker to have a look at the body. So, preferring not to sit with a dead body all night, they had mutually agreed to wait and watch for the sun before completing their mission and returning to the village.

So a certain dark-haired boy had plenty of time to sit and admire the appearance of the Inuzuka woman as they resided in a tree that kept their target in plain sight.

Though there was no doubt in his mind that this woman beat out all the kunoichi he was generally surrounded such as Sakura or Ino, there was one thing that marred her appearance, one unworthy mark on an otherwise beautiful creature-- those markings on her cheeks.

Something about the fang-shaped tattoos caused his to muscles tense and threatened to undo his constant smile.

And yet, they intrigued him, because she wore them proudly, as if she sincerely wanted them there. It was confusing-- he had been under the impression that women generally attempted to improve their appearance, that they tried to hide unflattering aspects.

So, as the two of them sat, on the outskirts of a clearing just beyond the village boundaries, and as they watched their target set up camp for the night, he brought up those frustrating marks. It was a good opportunity to practice conversation skills, he decided.

"Inuzuka-san?"

The question was posed in barely more than a whisper. Her hearing was exceptional, he knew. She needed no more than that.

Said woman turned her face towards him, and raised a questioning eyebrow in return.

"The markings on your face.." he began. He was rewarded with another questioning glance.

"Why are they there?"

Sai plastered the smile he'd worked so hard on across his own face, hoping he wasn't breaking a societal rule that the books he'd read had failed to mention. He had deliberately omitted asking her if it bothered her that they were ugly. He had learned to steer clear of that particular taboo word when talking to the female species. He hoped it was enough.

A hand shot up to touch the red slashes in question.

"They're a symbol of my clan. All Inuzuka have them." She kept her face turned toward him, apparently waiting to see if her answer sufficed. Her body, however, stayed angled toward the clearing.

Sai, in turn, continued with his line of questions.

"Are they a sign of possession, then? That you serve your clan-- that you are loyal to those who created you?"

For once, the dark-haired boy felt as if he understood something outside of his own emotionless shell. Serving those who made him who he was-- he lived for that. Of course she would feel no shame-- no shinobi took shame in their duty. Perhaps that was why she wore them with the same pride as one would wear a scar.

Her response was a low, throaty laugh that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"I suppose you could look at it that way." She sounded amused, and she had completely angled her body toward him.

Sai had a feeling he was being mocked.

"Am I wrong, then, Inuzuka-san?" His smile was still in place-- after all, smiles worked in all situations-- and he opened his eyes to see her reaction.

Though he didn't like the feeling that he had failed in yet another of his attempts at conversation, he wanted to see it through to the end.

And although most seemed put off by his ever-present smile, the Inuzuka girl simply returned the gesture.

"No, not really. There are many who would agree with your statement. I just choose not to look at it that way." She returned, her soft smile growing.

"Please continue." Sai said. Again, he wanted a paintbrush-- or rather, seeing as he had the supplies, he wanted light, so he could translate that expression on her face onto a canvas.

"Maybe it comes from my clan's pack mentality." She said after a moment, resting a hand on one of the trio of dogs that lay on her lap, and he watched as her smile transformed into a laugh. A laugh that spoke of things he couldn't begin to understand-- of memories, and family, and warmth.

"In my mind, it shows I belong. That there are people in this world like me-- who will accept me simply because they want to."

She turned to look at him full on and once more lifted a hand to her cheeks. "I'm rather fond of the marks, Sai-san."

As he did any time things went beyond the scope of reasoning for him, Sai merely cocked his head and smiled, before turning back towards the clearing where their intended target sat eating his dinner.

He tried his best to put his conversational attempt behind him, and to focus on the task at hand. It had never been difficult before. Yet, tonight the goal seemed particularly out of reach. Instead, he sat, replaying Hana's words over and over in his head. _"That there are people out there like me."_

And with a pang that was coming more and more often, he couldn't help but wonder not only what it would be like to feel those feelings he'd heard in his mission partner's laugh, but to _belong _as _she _belonged_._


End file.
